The Great Ophelia
by Lucille Enjolras
Summary: Enjolras lost his best friend when they were young, without so much as a proper goodbye. A note left for him in their favorite book was all she left him with. Now, half-way through college, the riots are starting and it's time for the people to take the presidency of France into their own hands. But when he hears a familiar name from Joly, will his childhood friend return?
1. Dinner at Dusk

_Let me fuck the world up just for you_

_Let me do that for you._

Chapter One: Dinner at Dusk

It seemed all Marius could do as of late was swoon and sigh, and to be frank it aggravated me something fierce. I was beginning to wonder if I should just have taken up the dorm with Joly and Combeferre. Anytime I talk I'm ignored, disregarded or blatantly interrupted. Even as we sit and make life- and freedom-threatening plans, Marius excuses himself to go see Cosette online. School begins on Monday, and the riots will begin Saturday. While I busied myself preparing for my classes and spreading the word, the terrible two occupied the loveseat laughing like hyenas in hysterics at wasteful fools on TV. Celebrities; people whom will crave the attention of millions of fanatics, only because they know how to get it. They have such power over the masses and their opinions, yet use that power for nothing. Had I stature like them, God-willing…

"How goes your plans, Enjolras?" I buried my face in my hands whilst Marius cleaned out the small kitchen.

"Just fine, thanks." I wasn't particularly up for explaining myself anymore, especially not to him.

"Good, I'm glad," he replied absently, scouring the kitchen with cleaner. I sighed, giving in and playing along.

"What's got your cockade in a twist?" I teased politely.

"Where are the cockade pins anyway? I think I've misplaced mine. Oh? Oh, nothing really, Cosette's coming this evening and I think her father may be joining us," he stored the cleaner back in the cabinet, pulling out pans and food to cook.

"Wonderful. Guess I'll clear out for the night," I gathered my books and started for the door, perhaps I could stay with Joly and Combeferre for tonight.

"Actually, would you stay?" He grabbed my shoulder gently, slightly pleadingly.

"Nervous around Valjean?"

"Perhaps. Eponine and Joly are coming as well, and this is your dorm as well plus I figure you and Valjean would get along better than he and I, perhaps ease some tension." I stared blankly into his eyes.

"Why would you ask Eponine to come? Trying to drive the poor girl to madness?"

"She has always been a dear friend and comfort to me, even before I met you. Why wouldn't I ask her now?"

"You're an imbecile," I chuckled.

"Besides," he spat, somewhat annoyed, "it'll give her an evening away from her parents."

"I think she needs a night away from you," I dropped my books back down on my desk and plopped down on the loveseat, grinning at Marius's idiocy. "Sure, I'll stay. Perhaps Valjean will prove a greater conversationalist than my dorm mate."

"Yes, maybe he will better appreciate your almighty and supreme loyalty to Mistress Patria."

"Ha ha ha, you're so funny. Shut your face and start cooking, otherwise all you'll have to offer our guests are bread slices." I settled down in the seat to take a nap, and dream of a world where my riots will succeed, and where Marius will shut his damn mouth about that woman.

"Welcome Cosette, Monsieur." I kissed Cosette's hand and shook Valjean's hand.

"Hello Enjolras, how are you?" Cosette smiled at me gently, as she often does.

"I'm just fine, getting ready for classes to begin again. It's nice to meet you Monsieur Valjean."

"Hello," he grinned politely. I looked back at Eponine, who was chatting up Joly and trying not to look at Cosette.

"Please, come in," I stepped aside.

"Mademoiselle, Joly." Valjean tilted his head at the pair. Eponine waved at him, not even glancing at the blonde. Poor girl…

"Welcome, dinner will be ready in just a moment." Marius kissed Cosette on the cheek and shook her father's hand, rushing back to the kitchen to begin preparing plates.

"What are _you_ majoring in, Enjolras?" Valjean turned to me.

"History and computer programming." I smiled as charmingly as I could.

"No doubt to aid in your revolution, yes?" Of course, of course Cosette would tell him. Why the hell would anyone keep a secret from their parents that I (well actually Marius) trusted them with?

"That is… Yes, Monsieur. Sorry."

"Why apologize? I don't blame you, in fact I'd be willing to help should you need it. And I commend you for working so passionately on it. Not many so-called 'revolutionaries' would actually study history to learn what does and doesn't work. As they say, history repeats itself," my grin spread across my face, always glad to have more men on my side.

"Thank you, there's always room for more in my revolution," I winked at him as Marius returned from the freshly set meals at the dinner table, a bit flushed.

"Dinner is served," He breathed nervously.

" Enjolras, my sister will be coming on Saturday, is that alright?" Joly looked almost sorry about his sibling's presence.

"So long as she knows what she's getting in to. Let whoever come who may."

"Oh, she knows what she's getting into. She's like you with breasts." He took a puff of his cigar before putting it out and heading to the dinner table with everyone else.

Dinner was rather uneventful, and any earlier tension (except from Eponine toward Cosette) had cleared the room once the wine was brought out. I don't often drink, but it was a sweet sort of chardonnay so I had only a glass. God forbid Grantaire were here. The conversations were at their height, everyone engaged and slightly hazy through the fog of alcohol. I simply listened to the duo of conversations, sort of feeling like the odd one out. Marius, Cosette and her father were talking to my right, and Joly and Eponine to my left. It's strange how I always manage to hear more than I say, people underestimate the power of listening, even to just miniscule conversations on the streets. Perhaps if the law employed use of their ears, they'd have caught all the revolutionists by now just by walking down around the Place de la Bastille.

"…. She's wonderful she is, little Ophelia always the top of the dogpile…."

"Ophelia? What Ophelia?" I hadn't realized what I'd done. Hadn't realized I'd stood up, dropping my glass and nearly shouted.

"Um… my sister. The one I said is coming Saturday?" I was suddenly hyperaware, suddenly hypersensitive to the fact that everyone was staring at me as if I was mad. Especially Marius, as if I had completely ruined his evening. The way he looked at me sent waves of anger through my head. It always has to be Marius's evening. Marius's day. Marius, Marius, Marius, God-damned Marius.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to head on to bed…" I picked up the wine glass and poured more in, filling it now to the brim and debating whether to leave the glass and just take the bottle. Ophelia. Ophelia. Ophelia… Ophelia. Can't be the same Ophelia. Can't.

"Hey, what the Hell was that!?" Marius flipped me out of my bed, fuming. Perhaps after the initial scene, he'd simply have been cross with me, but I suppose the flipping became necessary after about an hour of me being locked up in my room, I skulked through the living room and pulled a full bottle of chardonnay from the cabinet, drinking it from the straight from the bottle all the way back to the bedroom. I figured all eyes would be fixed on me as I did that, but really only Marius and Joly looked on in anger and concern.  
"What, you're so perfect you've never had a bad day?"  
"A bad day? You? You were perfectly alright up until you lost your damn mind."  
"Leave me alone, Marius," I pulled myself back up to my bed and rolled over against the wall, my back to him.  
"Enjolras, what's wrong?" I felt a side of the bed depress as he sat down beside me.  
"You. You're wrong. You expect everyone to be as perfect and happy as you are with your damn money and perfect goddamn girlfriend. Just leave me the hell alone Marius I'm tired of you." I knew I was just mad. I could feel warm tears of rage threatening to crawl down my red-hot cheeks. But even so, I could never stop blaming Marius for things. He was easy to lay blame on, what with his advantages.  
"Enjy." His voice grew softer, and I could feel his hand on my back now. "Please, tell me what's wrong." I stayed silent.  
"Joly's sister, Ophelia? Do you know her?" I sighed and buried my face into the sheets, gripping them tightly.  
"I knew someone named Ophelia."  
"And you think she's the same girl?" His voice was so innocent, so unknowing. Funny how well he knows me, yet knows so little of my life before college.  
"It can't be."  
"Why not?"  
"Because she's most likely dead and gone." The room grew deathly silent. It seemed the whole dormitory stopped moving, stopped breathing. Had it not been for the depression in my bed behind me, I'd think Marius wasn't even there. Minutes passed, hours it felt like. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke gently.  
"How do you know? Maybe she's still alive?" He'd never get it. I'll just have to show him. I rolled over, urging him off the bed so I could get up. I felt the dizziness of drunkenness wash over me as I stood, little dots of light obscuring my vision for just a moment as if in an adrenaline rush. Once my vision cleared, I eased my way over to the bookshelf, pulling out an old copy of The Great Gatsby. I opened to the page I kept marked always, so much have I highlighted in this book, on this page alone. Inside was a yellowed sheet of paper, the handwriting that graced was nearly like perfect script, beautiful cursive dancing across the paper. I lingered a moment over the words, like inked daggers. Finally, I managed to get back to the bed and lay down, staring up at the wood beneath the top bunk, handing the letter to Marius as gently as possible, hoping he'll get the picture and be careful with it. I suppose he understood since he took it as though it were a precious and fragile gem. I mouthed the words as his eyes roamed over them, his lips twitching slightly as well.  
Enjolras.  
Thank you. Truly and deeply, thank you.  
You may not see me again for a while.  
Maybe even never again.  
I've lived to fight another day, so now here I go  
Off to the final battle.  
Goodbye, Apollo.  
P.S., Do you hear the people sing? If you do, I am gone.

"And this... Is from Ophelia?" His tone grew dark and piteous.  
"Yes."  
"What does she mean? When she says she'll be gone when the people sing."  
"I wasn't always sure. But about two days later there was a funeral march. Probably of about 60 people who died when they tried to revolt, and failed. We were only kids, I knew we were planning to start this rebellion when we grew up, and we were sure we would succeed. But if she's dead... We were only kids. What kind of revolution would they allow a 12 year old GIRL to die in?!" My eyes stung and my voice caught in my throat.  
"What if she's not dead?" I'd almost forgotten Marius was still here.  
"Then how fitting she should return like this."  
"How so?"  
"Have you read The Great Gatsby?"  
"Yes, never did make it to the end though."  
"Then doesn't this all seem so familiar?"  
"So that makes Ophelia Gatsby, and you're Daisy?" He laughed and I punched his leg, though I couldn't help giggling myself. "Should I run out and get you a nice dress?" I punched him again, in the arm this time.  
"Hush up," I rarely ever drank this much, and now as I tried to sit up again I remembered why. How can people enjoy the sick feeling booze gives after one too many?  
"Nonetheless, be kind to Joly's sister. He said she doesn't have many friends, and I'm sure they'd both appreciate it if we took her as one of our own and treated her as such." His tone was almost a warning.  
"What you think I'm going to be a jackass to her?"  
"No, I think you're going to be shy around her like you usually are around young girls. By the way Enjolras..." He got up and started stripping to get into bed on the top bunk, just for tonight since I don't think I could make it up there in my current state. "I never thought you as one to fall in love," he winked at my and heat spread across my cheeks.  
"I never said I was in love with her!" I shouted disdainfully.  
"No, your eyes did." He climbed up the ladder and settled in, then looked down on me from the side. "Hell's afloat in lover's tears," he quoted sadly. My eyes were still wet and irritated, so I turned over and pulled the sheets over me. I was not in love with her. Even if I was, what business was it of his?  
"Enjolras?"  
"What..?"  
"One more question?"  
"Fine, but it's your last question for the rest of the week."  
"... Did she inspire the song you wrote? For our riots?"  
"Why, because she wrote 'do you hear the people sing?'" He mumbled an affirmation.  
"... She's the one who wrote it."  
"… Goodnight, Enjolras."  
"'Night."


	2. The Hangover

Chapter 2: The Hangover

I woke up feeling groggy, the hangover of the evening before taking the wheel from my drunkenness. I truly will never understand how Bahorel and Grantaire could wake up like this every morning. Hopefully they'll calm down when school begins again. I could smell the strong scent of coffee practically dancing through the air, luring me up out of bed. I stumbled as I stood, a dizziness washing over me. I pray Marius has made extra coffee this morning.  
"Good morning, Daisy Buchanan," he winked at me smugly from the kitchen counter, cooking eggs and pouring cups of coffee.  
"Shut up, Jordan Baker," I retorted.  
"How're you feeling?"  
"Like a shard of my skull is slowly lodging itself into my brain." I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face.  
"No worries, you'll soon be used to it."  
"I have no intention to make a habit of last night's... Transgressions." I took a cup of coffee and sipped at it, allowing its heat to cascade from my lips and tongue down my throat, settling in my stomach after emanating warmth through my body.  
"Might want to put some clothes on, the boys will be here soon to take us to the pub."  
"Why can't I just be like a cat today and sleep...?"  
"Okay listen here Meowjolras, you're the one organizing tomorrow's riots so if anyone's taking a day off, it's not you." He scooped some eggs on my plate and a sausage and cheese croissant from the café a few blocks down.  
"Thank you, Marius. May I ask you something?"  
"Of course," he absently readied his own plate.  
"Do you think Alerie will aid or harm us in the riots?" Alerie. We met her last year, she being Courfeyrac's sister. She was sort of like all our little sister, a sweetheart but a true fighter.  
"You think she'll distract us?"  
"Perhaps. It's no secret we care about her, and if she were put in danger?" Marius took a long, thoughtful sip of coffee. He finally looked up and sighed.  
"Did you know some cultures sent loved ones off to battle together?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "Their idea was if you go to war with your lover, you'll fight twice as hard. For your life, freedom, or country. And to protect your love. So perhaps Courf's sister being there wouldn't be detrimental. It may intensify our vigor to fight. Especially for Courf. Not to mention, she'll be fighting just as hard, and she's already a little firecracker."  
"Yes, I suppose you're right." I mumbled.  
"Now may I ask something?"  
"I guess so."  
"What if Ophelia were there? In a riot or fight with you." I pushed my tongue against my cheek, the thought of her in a fight made my blood boil.  
"Then I'd fight thrice as hard. For my country. For my friends. And to make sure not a single one of those bastards touches even the smallest skin cell on her body. Not to mention, so our dream of a better France, a freer France can come to fruition our way." Marius looked odd, as if he thought he'd upset me with his inquiry. "Not to worry though. I doubt she will be rioting beside me anytime soon." He lowered his eyes as we continued our breakfast, valuing the sweet virtue of silence.  
"Knock knock, boys!" Alerie peeked through the door enthusiastically, Combeferre and Courfeyrac trailing behind. I grew embarrassed and covered my boxers with my arms, still a little shy.  
"Whatever happened to actually knocking?" I spat.  
"That would defeat the purpose of catching you unawares," she looked me up and down and winked, causing an instant but tiny reaction of jealousy from Combeferre. Alerie was rebellious, and quite the alluring young woman. I could see why he enjoyed her company so much. He spent a lot of time with her, he could often be found stealing her away from her brother, or pulling her over to talk to me of her ideas after meetings. She was a deeply intelligent girl, and a great asset to our cause. However, she could be rather infuriating, especially when it comes to her willingness to back-sass me all the time. Nonetheless, she and I have become rather close, like siblings almost. Still, I'm not every comfortable being nearly naked before her.  
"I'll be back, got to change." I walked fast-paced to the bedroom, shut the door and started to get dressed. I'll be damned if she ever caught me undressed again. I remember when I was a child. Ophelia would often barge in such as Alerie. I'd grow red and throw a tantrum until she finally agreed to wait outside until I was presentable. I'd always been like that. My mother was oft-concerned that would be a problem should I go to a college with co-ed dorms, or if I should find a girlfriend or wife someday. Perhaps her concern was well-placed.  
"Ready yet, Apollo?" Her voice, defiant as ever, drummed in my ears against the wine-induced migraine.  
"I told you NOT to call me that. Just give me a moment." I pulled on a blue sweatshirt and adjusted my hair, catching a glimpse of the note Marius left so carelessly on the nightstand. I picked it up, gingerly placing it within its pages, leaving it directly under the highlighted line where it was originally left by soft and perfumed hands; "No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart."  
"Apollo?"  
"For fucksakes, I told you not to call me that! I'm coming!" I stored the book in my jacket pocket. Perhaps I could start reading it over again as we wait for others to show up at the meeting.  
"Okay let's go." Alerie huffed and flipped the asymmetric piece of browm hair that lingered around her left eye, and it fell gracefully back to her temple.  
"It's not like we're going to be late or anything," she mumbled sarcastically.  
"Actually, we won't be late. We're not walking today." Everyone's attention was directed at Courfeyrac.  
"Oh?"  
"Joly's borrowing his sister's car, so he'll take us."  
"Will she be coming?" I caught the unexpected eagerness in my voice. If this was truly the Ophelia I once knew, I needed to know.  
"...Nooo she's not, apparently she's taking she and this one's new kitten to the vet," he gestured at Alerie. Are she and Alerie friends?  
"Oh, so you know Ophelia, Alerie?" I tried to sound casual, but I knew by the look on her face she caught me in the act. She knew me a little more than I liked.  
"Oh yeah, she's me and Courf's new dorm mate. I met her over the summer, so this year she's taking up room with us. Besides she's new here, needs all the friends she can get. I'm sure you'll be stepping right up to plate, now, won't you Enj?"  
"Okay, I, for one, want to get going," Marius interjected, probably expecting fists to fly. Of course, I'd never elect to fight Alerie. She'd probably beat my skull in.  
"Yes, let's please go?" I asked more gently, trying to persuade her into dropping the subject.  
"Alright, let's get Joly," she gave in, pivoting on her heel towards the outer hall of the dormitory.  
"He's waiting down in the car."  
"Well, isn't Joly just on the ball today," she smiled and headed for the stairs, shouting, "Enj should have shotgun!" Cheeky little shit. I'm sure she's already been informed of my little episode last night, and no doubt Joly will begin the interrogation, he probably thinks me mad. The sound of doubled footsteps came down the hall, Prouvaire and my younger sister rushing to join us as we walked to the door.

"Morning Prouvaire, and Charlotte, _ma soeur_." I nodded towards him and kissed my sister on the cheek. Charlotte may just be the only thing I can't help but show my love for, even in the face of my revolution I have a soft spot in my heart for her.

"Alexandre, how are you?" By the catch in her voice, I'm to assume Joly told her as well. Wait, did she stay with Prouvaire last night?

"I'm fine. Say, you look a bit tired. Busy night, I suppose?" He blushed a bit, averting his eyes from mine.

"I could say the same of you, _mon frère._" She hooked her arms in Alerie's and they lead the group out the front door. Why, for the love of God, do I surround myself with such defiant young women? It's like God looked down and said, "_Now Alexandre, I know your mother was such a fine woman, but that generation has passed so you're stuck with warrior women for a family. Enjoy." _ Damn it. I glanced at Prouvaire, his reddened cheeks telling me all about their night. I, being 26 and in my last year of college, was obviously a bit worried about my 16-year-old sister dating my 19-year-old college friend. Though this will be his first year in college and they've been dating for nearly two years, I still worry for her sake.

"You remember what I told you, Prouvaire. You're like a brother to me and I love you accordingly. But should a single tear fall from our Charlotte's eyes in your name, I'll make you squeal like a pig."

"Not to worry, our little Owlette's in good hands. I promise." He smiled at me, knowing I was kidding. Well, mostly kidding. As soon as I passed the doorway, the sunlight warmed my skin and made my head pound all the more. It seems this hangover would be unrelenting. A horn honked, and there was Joly sitting excitedly, albeit worriedly, in a black 1961 Volkswagen Type 3. How his sister so much as found that car in such good condition, much less afforded it is beyond me.

"Gorgeous car," I commented. By the time I reached the door, the backseat was already filled. Charlotte on Prouvaire's lap occupying one seat, Alerie on Combeferre's taking up another, and the third was taken up by Courfeyrac and Marius squishing themselves together as much they could. I literally had no choice now. I sighed and pulled open the front passenger door, settling down in the leather seat.

"Everyone keep the windows open, never know when the Silent Shadow's upon you until it's too late." I sighed and cranked down the window. The only reason Joly doesn't drive often, though he appreciates and loves cars, is that he's afraid he'll be that one guy who dies from carbon monoxide poisoning. Although, admittedly, anyone with the determination and money to get this car would take a great deal of care with it, so I doubt he'll die at the hands of a Volkswagen. The hum of the engine and the wind blowing my hair about made the ride rather soothing, until Joly leaned towards me a bit.

"Are you okay, Enjolras? What exactly happened last night?" he looked more concerned for me than anything, how very like Joly...  
"Nothing, the name just seemed a bit familiar, nothing important really. I do wonder, have I seen Ophelia before?"  
"Not to my knowledge, none of you guys have, aside from Courf and Alerie."  
"Well, perhaps I have, around school when she signed up and all that. What does she look like?"  
"Like a girl I suppose? Fuck if I know Enjolras, she's my sister I guess she looks similar to me." I gathered from the way his personality took a sudden dip I should leave the subject alone for now. Perhaps his concern wasn't directed at me, but towards his sister. He probably thinks I'm a crazy creeper now. Hopefully, he knows better than to think that of me.

"Just be nice to her, okay? She's shy." He didn't look at me, his eyes stuck on the road.

"Don't worry Joly, she'll be just fine with a brother like you," I reached over a ruffled his hair a bit, being rewarded with a small simper, "but you don't have to be so protective of her. If she's in college by now I'm sure she's perfectly well-equipped with the social skills to make friends of her choosing."

"Really, because you totally didn't force us to be friends with Charlotte!" He remarked sarcastically. Charlotte kicked the back of his chair indignantly in response.

"Oh, please , you know you guys love me."

"Whatever you say, Princess."

"You're so lucky this is Ophelia's car and not yours 'cause I'd be kickin' the chair 'til you fly out the window for bein' a little smart-ass!" Alerie jumped on the offense, half-joking. All of this chatter was only making my migraine worse. I hope this meeting will be a little more orderly and quiet than the last…

The meeting went by slowly, and I begrudged every moment of it. The only comfort I had was the dim lighting of the pub, and the coffee Valjean brought me. I was pleasantly surprised to find him there, and he contributed greatly to the meeting. At least, more than Grantaire did. All he did was constantly poke fun at my hangover. It got old really quickly. I finally just kicked him out of the meeting, the ever-sweet Celine trailing after him; I don't feel like dealing with his bull today. Some may say I'm cold-hearted, let them say what they wish. But this situation of rebellion is too delicate to make fun of right now. Valjean offered to keep Inspector Javert busy tomorrow; hopefully he can do it without getting into any trouble. I'm happy he wants to help, but I don't want him to get arrested, however. These riots won't just be kids running around playing pretend with protesting. We won't give in, and we won't be quieted. As I ran my fingers absently over the pages of The Great Gatsby, I decided nothing will stop me tomorrow. Every feeling put aside, tomorrow will be war and I will be the victor. I only hope "Mistress Patria" will be ready for her new Master. The hangover was finally subsiding, coffee clearing my senses. Everything was clearer now. Tomorrow had to happen, and we had to win. No matter what.


	3. Two More Hours Before the Storm

Saturday morning, I woke with a start. Not that I really slept much, of course. The air in the room was still, the whole dormitory seemed to succumb to silence, as most of the students to be were asleep in their beds and charging up for the last parties of the weekend before classes start back up. The silence was a bit eerie, as if I'm surrounded by people yet completely alone. I yawned, the sound ear-shattering compared to the quiet moment before. My eyes watered and tears streamed down my cheek, a natural reaction to yawning but it still felt odd. I detested crying. I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath, rolling over to the edge of the top bunk.  
"Marius?" Neither sound nor stir from the bed beneath me.  
"Pontmercy, you awake yet?" I hung my head upside down over the edge, my curls dangling around. The sheets in his bed were tossed around, but there was no Marius in sight. He may have gone to Cosette's. He mentioned something about if he were injured or killed; he wants to see Cosette first. Odd boy, he is. I grabbed the edge of the wood where it hooked, somersaulting forward and landing on my feet. I learned a few things when I chaperoned Charlotte at her kick boxing classes when she was young. I'll be damned if my little sister would be more fit than I. I looked around and hoped the dim boy would appear, only because I felt a bit of anxiety rise up my throat. I finally decided I would just go across the hall and talk to Charlotte. She told me she'd stay the night with Jehan and Grantaire, so she wouldn't be far away when we gather for the riots. I pulled on some black trousers and suspenders, unable to find a belt in the mess of the dorm. I kept the white wifebeater I slept in, deciding I'd change later when it counted. I grabbed my phone and checked it, in case Marius messages me, then jammed it in my pocket.  
The walk to their dorm was pretty short, my footsteps seemd so loud in the echoing hall. I knocked on the door and peeked my head in, as their door was typically unlocked.  
"Owlette?" I called for her, but I heard laughing and joking coming from the bedroom. I saw Grantaire passed out on the couch, looking peaceful yet sluggish.  
"Owl?" The door was a bit open, so I pushed it further and caught sight of Prouvaire and my sister on the bed. He was adorning her beautiful hair with fresh little violets, and she never looked happier.  
"Oh, so when you were young and I approached you with the most beautiful daisies I could find to braid into your hair with mom you crushed them, but you let Prouvaire turn your head into a garden!"

"But he does it better."

"Ohh myyy LOOOORD." I huffed, "I actually needed to talk to you about something, but since PROUVAIRE is so much more important and wonderful, I'll just go wait at the damn Café _Musain_!" I slammed the door shut, catching the confused face of Charlotte, and the hurt expression Prouvaire held. I was sorry. I really was. I just don't think clearly when I'm angry. Grantaire was suddenly up, scuttling around looking for the intruder that slammed the door.

"Oh, calm down, it's just me." He still looked startled, though he recognized it was me.

"Morning, Enjolras. How's the day treating you so far?" He stretched and looked around for his phone, surprised by how early it was. "What are you doing around here so early?"

"Does it matter?" I continued to the door, not breaking my stride.

"Oh, I suppose not."

"Then why ask?" I stepped out into the hall and shut the door, hurrying back to my room feeling deeply agitated. There were hushed voices coming from Joly and Combeferre's dorm.

"Please, just do it."

"We're going to participate in a RIOT. And you want to take my damn temperature!?"

"You can never be too careful, _ma soeur._"

"This is ridiculous. I'm just going to go wait with Alerie at _Le Musain_."

"If I have to go through this every morning, then so do you."

"Ummm, no I don't 'Ferre. I went through it every morning for 20 years, now it's your turn."

"Oh, don't be so difficult Joly, leave the poor girl alone." I heard Joly, Combeferre, and Alerie chatting, and a fourth voice that I didn't recognize. I could only assume it was Ophelia.

"It would ease my mind if you would just please let me take your temperature? You were coughing an awful lot last night, I don't want you getting ill. Especially not today. Wouldn't want to disappoint Enjolras would we?" A sudden silence from the other side of the door. I had hardly realized I was leaning upon the door, my ear against the crack. Then, the soft voice of, assumedly, Ophelia rang through the door like a song.

"Give me the thermometer." Another short silence followed, and then Joly's voice broke through.

"99.2. Are you sure you want to go today, I mean you don't really have to—"

"I do have to." It seemed that ended the conversation. I pulled away from the door, trying to remember my Ophelia's voice. Then again, she was 12 the last time I heard it. It didn't seem like anyone was coming out anytime soon, so I guess I'll just have to wait after all. My cheeks felt warm, and I suddenly worried I may be falling ill. I can't be sick, not when there's so much to be done. I checked my phone for the time; still around 9:30 AM. I had plenty of time before I actually had to be at _Le Musain_ but I couldn't think of anything to do in the meantime. I finally decided to just head over there and wait. I walked back to my room to switch my wifebeater for a slightly nicer shirt and my red coat. Grabbing my keys and heading out the door, I ran into Marius.

"Oh, pleasure to have you join us, Pontmercy. Are you coming to _Le Musain_ or hanging around here for a bit?"

"I'll be down soon, Courfeyrac is bringing Céline, and so I'll have to watch over them until they go to the café."

"Why would you have to watch over them? They're adults, what trouble could they get into?" Marius looked at me with an expression I received often.

"Because, I know Céline likes him, and I don't want him to try anything on her."

"If she likes him, wouldn't it be good if he liked her, too?"

"Yes but… I… It's different." He went in the room and closed the door behind him, frustrated. Some things go over my head, including his need to keep Céline and Courf away from each other. I think having a steady girlfriend may keep him from all his less-than-appropriate sexual endeavors. Speak of the devils; they were coming up the steps as I began to descend.

"_De bon matin, mon ami._ You're already heading down to the café?"

"Never too early for a revolution," I winked at Céline and she smiled.

"_Bonjour, _Monsieur Enjolras." I leaned down to kiss her and the cheek and nodded at Courfeyrac, taking the last few steps down the stairs and waving at them from the door. I suppose there's a sadistic little comedian inside me wishing those Marius would walk in on those two kissing someday. Just to see the look on his face would be absolutely priceless. The streets were rather empty as I walked along to the café. A few people here and there walking their pets, going out for breakfast, some recognized me and smiled while some recognized me and sneered. One of these people was, of course, Javert. He noticed me instantly and began to walk my way.

"_Bonjour_, monsieur. And where are we off to this morning?" His smug grin spread over his face like a comedic mask.

"Just out to get a bite to eat. Bonjour, Monsieur Javert, how is our favorite leader of the law today?"

"_Inspector _Javert." He corrected. "Just wonderful. In fact, just last week I caught wind of talk of a revolution in the city soon. Know anything of that, monsieur?"

"Me? No, of course not, Inspector. If I hear anything, I'll be sure to call in to your offices and let you know, may even have a word with these revolutionaries myself."

"I'm sure you will." His tone dropped, so I just continued to walk past him to the café. Thankfully, he didn't follow me. The lights were low in the café, but the door was open.

"_Bonjour_, Enjolras," little Gavroche waved at me from the back of the café, where in the booth beside him Bahorel and Lesgle were lying on the seats.

"Don't tell me you two stayed here all night?" I leaned against the table and patted Gavroche's shoulder.

"'Course not. Musichetta dropped me off. Bahorel, however, is another story," Lesgle and I turned our heads to him for an explanation. I saw him holding a cold beer bottle to his eye, the surrounding area black and blue.

"Another fight?"

"I still won," his mischievous smile and hung over laughter wasn't necessarily annoying, but today it irked me just a bit.

"Javert was riding me about talk of revolution on my way here. How do you think he knew?"

"Maybe because you plastered it all over the internet?"

"Speaking of plastered," I grabbed the beer from his hand before his could take a sip, "I think you've had enough for now," he groaned but didn't move to take it back. I'd never had beer before, but the odor was odd, almost like bread. Either way, it probably tasted as gross as it smelled. I checked my phone again for the time. Only just after 10… the anxiety began to rise in my throat again, but settled down when Gavroche climbed to sit up on the table with me.

"How long before it starts?" He inquired.

"Just two more hours to go. Two more hours until our first taste of freedom."


End file.
